The second assassination attempt did not come with a blade.

It came with a whisper.

I have learned that steel is honest. It glints. It hums when drawn. It leaves evidence behind.

Whispers do not.

Whispers settle into corners. They move from ear to ear without shape. They alter perception before anyone thinks to question them.

By the time I realized Ironcrest’s failure had shifted strategy, the damage had already begun.

It started in the training yard.

Not with our son.

With the other children.